


one more sleepless night with phil

by jjupi (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: angsty, idk what to tag things with ha, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 10:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10489095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jjupi
Summary: phil stays up late and gets more than a little anxious.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this isn't that well-written. it's a bit of a vent. i'll probably take it down later.  
> song: staying up by the neighborhood

Phil couldn’t sleep.  
When he was younger, sleep always came easily. He was the type that was unconscious as soon as his head hit the pillow. His mum always used to tease him for sleeping during car trips, films, and even in the bath one time. But now that he was thirty years old, getting to bed was, more often than not, more effort than it was worth.  
It was 3 am. He’d eased himself off Tumblr and Twitter more than three hours ago, and he’d set down the book he was reading not long after that. The problem was not outside distractions. It never was.  
If you asked a subscriber about who worried more, they would definitely say Dan. All those existential crises and jokes about death! Poor Danny, they liked to say. He must be so stressed out. But anyone who was close with them knew who the real worrier was, who agonized over every detail of every plan, who worked so hard on every idea and worked himself into extreme frustration if they didn’t come out how he needed them to be. And then there was the stuff even Dan didn’t know.  
Today, Phil had dropped the glass teapot. It had smashed everywhere, even sending shards down the hall. Dan would have groaned good-naturedly and cleaned it up begrudgingly, but Phil had pounded his head against the cupboard and then froze there, gritting his teeth, begging himself not to cry.  
“You clumsy fuck!” he had growled to himself. “Clumsy piece of shit! Why does anyone put up with this fucking nonsense!”  
His hands were shaking so hard while he cleaned that he dropped the biggest shards again, breaking them into near-dust. After half an hour of painstaking dusting and sweeping, the kitchen was close enough to spotless again. He had no idea how he was going to tell Dan.  
Phil turned over again, desperate to rid himself from the heat of his bed but too exhausted to stand and clear his mind. He hated himself for dropping that shitty teapot. Every time he replayed the moment in his mind he felt his fists clench and he had to squeeze his eyes shut, mumbling ‘pleasepleaseplease’ under his breath until the wave of anxiety passed. He wasn’t sure what he was asking for, though during moments as bad as these, he wondered if he was asking to die.  
Finally, it became unbearable. He flung himself out of bed so violently that he almost slammed into the wall. He paced a little bit, kicking piles of clothes out of the way. He couldn’t calm his ragged breathing even though he was free of his sheets. Seized by a sudden desire to take control, he ripped off his pajama pants and t-shirt until he stood in just his white boxers.  
The heat was gone but the pressure remained. He didn’t dare glance at himself in the mirror. He knew he looked insane. But he was calmer like this, sort of.  
Phil thought about the teapot again and cringed, a full-blown Dan-style cringe attack forcing him to shiver with embarrassment and regret. He had long since accepted that everyone hated him for being a ‘colossal flop’, so why did it still hurt? He dug his nails into his chest and kept them there until his heartbeat slowed again.  
It was almost 4 now. He wasn’t sleeping tonight. He hated the sleepless nights, but -  
Sleepless nights.  
He could film a video.  
He put his shirt back on, grabbed his phone with a sense of determination, and settled back into the sheets. Phil was going to make an amazing video and everyone was going to love it.  
But when he popped open the camera, he saw how washed-out he looked compared to his bright sheets and dark hair. His eyes had enormous bags under them. He looked drained and too small for his shirt.  
Still, he pressed on. He held down the record button with a shaking thumb.  
“H-hi guys. Welcome to another sleepless n-n-night with - with Ph -”  
He cut himself off with a loud wail.  
It was as if the floodgates had opened. Phil cried hysterically, choking between sobs, his body heaving with each gasp. He was weeping so loudly he didn’t hear Dan’s heavy footsteps.  
“Phil! Oh my God, Phil, oh my God, is everything okay?”  
Phil looked at him through his hands and shook his head.  
“No.”


End file.
